Genealogy
by emberin
Summary: Tellius. His proud father, his shameful stepmother, his beloved brothers. A reflection on family. Oscar-centric.


Genealogy

NOTE: Spoilers for those who have not read the base conversation 'The Three Brothers'.

DISCLAIMER: Fire Emblem and its characters belong to Nintendo and Intelligent Systems.

* * *

"Father, it's good to see you again."

"Look at you!" Oscar felt his father whack him soundly on the back. "You're a knight now, are you? A Royal Knight of Crimea!" His father's voice was full of pride; after all, Oscar was the first knight from their town. Most sons went to take on the trades of their families. But since Boyd had shown much more proficiency at the axe, Oscar decided to join up with the knights.

Now he stood at the town gates with his father, his first trip home since officially becoming a knight. Compared to the busy streets of Melior, his town seemed quaint, but Oscar didn't mind. This town was his ancestral home since its founding, containing records of great-great-great-grandfathers and the like.

"Let's head to the house, shall we?" his father suggested. Tugging at the horse's reins, Oscar headed down the familiar streets to his home.

People called out his name as he passed, some running up to congratulate him, others waving at him from their work. In particular, two green-haired boys – one about his height, the other considerably shorter – rushed up the street with huge grins on their faces. The taller one cuffed him, while the shorter one ran in for a hug.

"Oscar!" the smaller boy said, burying his face in Oscar's stomach. "You're back!"

"Have you been good while I was gone, Rolf?" Oscar asked, smiling slightly. To this, the other boy (from whom Oscar received a smack) snorted.

"Don't lie, Rolf," he laughed derisively. "You were the one who got all that milk on the bed. And you lied to Celica about it, too."

"Nuh-uh, Boyd!" Rolf yelled indignantly, unwrapping his arms from Oscar's legs to put them on his waist. "You were the one who spilt the milk and then tried to blame me for it!"

While the two argued, Oscar spotted a third figure walking up, her blond hair fluttering in the wind, her apron freshly splattered with what appeared to be sauce, her smile gracing her face. She waved, and he waved back.

Celica.

"So it was you, Boyd," she remarked. "I thought it was strange considering Rolf was with me the whole time the milk could have been spilt."

"Urk! Celica!" Boyd jumped. "I-it wasn't me!"

"Ha!" Rolf teased. "See, Boyd? I told you Mommy would find out!"

Celica. His stepmother.

"Well, boys," Oscar heard his father say, "let's go home, shall we?"

-

Over dinner, Oscar's family pelted him with questions about the Royal Knights, Melior, and generally anything outside of their town. Oscar chewed thoughtfully on his spinach as he tried to ponder an entertaining response to a question about life in the barracks.

"Well, we have our own forge and farm for us to use when we're not preparing for combat. We get a lot of free time to wander the town…"

"That sounds like fun!" Rolf said happily. "I wanna – "

"… but the sleeping quarters are crowded, clothing can get quite dirty and it generally gets quite disgusting in the barracks after a while."

" – oh."

Oscar's father burst into laughter.

"Being a knight is a hard life," he commented. "Still, you do us proud, Oscar. I always knew you would be at the top of your squadron." He grinned. "I'm glad to be your father."

Oscar learned to praise from his father. He believed that praise boosted the spirit and was essential in learning. It gave Oscar a goal, to hear encouragement that kept him at his best. So he gave it to his peers, too – one interesting fellow, Kieran, ate it all up – and he watched his comrades get better, convinced that it was the right thing.

His father was proud of him, but Oscar was proud of his father, too. A simple woodcutter he held many small pearls of wisdom that Oscar struggled to obtain in his sparse visits. Many townsfolk said that he took after his father. It didn't bother him at all, if his father was such a great man. Boyd, however, was said to take after his mother. And Rolf, Celica.

Oscar remembered the day they met her. Celica.

He was eleven, while Boyd was six. Oscar's father had brought her to their home one night to have a meal with them. By this time their mother had been dead for almost a year, but Boyd had not yet fully understood.

"Boys, this is Celica," he told them. "She and I have decided that she will be your new mother." He gestured to her, and she smiled and waved.

"It's nice to meet you," she said, a little quietly.

Boyd had somehow gotten it into his head that Celica was going to replace their mother. "What about Mommy? You can't replace Mommy!"

"I don't have to be your mother," Celica tried in response. She turned to Oscar, who at eleven understood the situation. "You can call me Celica, if you wish." Oscar realized that she was very careful with what she said around them, almost as if she was bracing herself for something.

"It's nice to meet you, Celica," he said politely in response. He knew there was nothing he could do to bring his mother back, and if this made his father happy he didn't mind.

Oscar had left soon after the marriage for pagehood with the Royal Knights. He hadn't gotten very close to Celica, though it was hard for him to get used to her only being eight years older. She was carefree, innocent, sweet, but she didn't really know how to be a mother.

Now, back after becoming a knight, he saw that not much had changed about her. He continued to eat his dinner, noticing that at least Celica's cooking had improved somewhat.

In the few visits between his years of training, he watched Rolf grow up to be like Celica. He never had to take on the burden of responsibility or do chores around the house. His life was idle, unspoiled by hardship.

At times, Oscar wished he had Rolf's life.

-

That night, Oscar slept in Boyd's room on a bunch of sheets laid on the floor. He was lying there, staring up at the ceiling when he heard Boyd shuffle.

"Oscar, tell me about mom."

This, he immediately knew, meant their real mother, the one no longer with them.

Boyd loved hearing about their mother. Only five when she died, he never remembered very much about her. Of course, Oscar wasn't much better.

"But I've told you pretty much everything I can remember," he said, frowning, although in the dim moonlight from the small window it was barely visible.

"Tell me again."

Oscar sighed.

"Mom was really energetic," he started, wondering if there was something else he could have started with. "She always smiled. She was kind, though sometimes she could get a little angry at petty things. She was a very strong woman, she always did the heavy lifting in the house. She was passionate and she looked out for us."

As he spoke, Oscar recalled what few memories he still had intact. His mother bringing large bags of flour to the kitchen. The feeling of one of her bear hugs. Being tucked into bed by those firm hands and sung a lullaby…

Oscar heard a rustle from outside the window.

"… did you hear that?" he asked Boyd.

"The rustle?"

The two of them got up and peered through the window.

Oscar's eyes followed a figure (a female, he guessed) heading out from the small field on the side of their house to the road, where a merchant's wagon stood. A small lantern appeared to float from the wagon, illuminating a face. Oscar could feel Boyd leaning in to try and see details, but neither of them seemed to be able to.

On the other hand, that female looked very familiar in the light. The blonde hair, the angled face…

A laugh escaped the pair's lips. Beside him, Oscar heard Boyd's sharp intake of breath. So did the woman, and she turned to their window.

* * *

_Oscar,_

_You have to come back. You will NOT believe what has happened._

_That woman left us._

_We woke up this morning to find her stuff gone, her drawers empty, everything. She wouldn't leave so much as a note._

_And guess who found out first? Rolf. He didn't even think anything wrong had happened. He just thought she went out to buy something. Obviously, she hasn't come back. I'm scared as to what to do when he finds out. And you know Dad hasn't felt well lately. If this pushes him over the edge, I don't know what Rolf and I'll do._

_It's just… how could she? What was possibly going wrong that she needed to leave? And she left her own son too? I mean, I don't give if she doesn't care about me, but how dare she leave behind Rolf? He's her son!_

_Please, come back. I can't do this alone._

_- Boyd_

* * *

"Oh… I finally found you!"

Oscar still remembered her voice after all these years. He stiffened. Looking to Boyd, he saw that his brother had a similar reaction.

"Oscar… Boyd… it's been such a long time."

A small "eep!" escaped Oscar's lips, although he had tried as hard as he could to get himself to stay calm. Slowly, he turned, to be greeted by the sight of the familiar wavy blond hair and blue eyes. Here, ten years later, she dared to show her face.

Celica. How the name rang in his head with disgust.

Yet with a silent resignation he decided that this was perhaps for the best; both sides would eventually have to stop running.

"How did you find us?" Boyd said slowly, accusingly. Oscar saw his brother's fists clench tightly, as though he were trying to suppress an urge to hit someone hard. He was wondering why Boyd was so angry when he recalled a conversation the night before. Boyd had returned with a slightly dazed look after the battle, and he had kept on looking back at a certain house he entered. When asked what happened, Boyd hadn't responded, only sitting there with a bewildered look on his face like he'd seen a ghost.

Well, now he knew what he'd seen.

The sound of footsteps interrupted the awkward silence.

"She's in here!"

Two Gallian guards burst in and immediately grabbed Celica. In shock, she looked over her shoulder at them and screamed.

"Let go!"

"What are you doing here, intruder? You're coming with me!" one of the guards growled.

"No, please! I'm not done yet!" Celica begged, looking at Boyd and Oscar. Knowing that the issue would never get another chance to be resolved, Oscar sighed.

"Please let her go. She's a friend of ours." The word 'friend' tasted bitter in his mouth.

"She is? You should have said something!" Looking somewhat shocked and bewildered, the two guards let go of Celica and left. Oscar's immediate reaction was to ask how she got past them in the first place, but he didn't. There were more pressing issues at hand.

"… thank you, Oscar," Celica said, smiling as she dusted her sleeves off. "Oh, that was scary!"

Boyd immediately asked, "Why did you come here?"

Celica turned to Oscar, probably sensing that it would be impossible to negotiate with Boyd, and said, "Please, you have to let me see him."

Inwardly, Oscar knew she had absolutely no right to even say such a thing to them, but he simply said, "I do?" The subject, of course, was implied.

"He's here with you, right?" Celica exclaimed, starting to get agitated. "Let me see Rolf!"

"Uh… why should we?" Boyd raised an eyebrow.

"What!?"

"You abandoned him! You left me, Dad and Rolf for some guy! What kind of mom does that, huh?" Oscar could sense that Boyd was not going to restrain himself much longer, yet he didn't blame him; Celica had brought pain and shame upon their family. After she had left, they became the brothers to pity, not the brothers to be proud of.

Only their father remained proud and strong, even though he was ill and bedridden. He always told them that they helped him out so much, that he was glad to have them as sons. It kept them going, and kept them with faith.

One thing puzzled Oscar, though; his father never said anything badly of Celica, especially to Rolf, even after everything that happened.

"I was different back then!" Celica said. "I was so young… I didn't know how to raise two kids while looking after your bedridden father. Believe me, I tried! I tried… but it was too difficult." Oscar thought of the night when he and Boyd had witnessed her seeing the merchant.

"At least you and I aren't related," Boyd huffed. "But, Rolf… that's different. He's your son! Yours!" He slammed his fist hard into the wooden wall bordering the camp. "And you left him behind because it was too hard!?"

Celica bowed her head. "I'm sorry… I've regretted my decision since the day I made it. I thought of you each and every day."

"My father died not too long after you left him." Oscar saw Boyd's arm shake slightly. A single tear broke free of Boyd's resistance. "We'd have followed him, too, if my brother hadn't abandoned his knighthood in Crimea to take care of us!"

In silence, Oscar watched Celica's face drain of colour as she fell to her knees, her frame wracking uncontrollably. "I… I had no idea… oh…" She began to sob quietly. "I've made a terrible mistake! I'm so sorry… forgive me…"

"Leave. Now." Boyd could no longer look at Celica and turned away. "You've got no right to see Rolf." Oscar watched the scene, not quite understanding why Celica wanted Rolf back so desperately if she was so willing to abandon him before.

"Boyd! Please, I'm begging you!" Celica cried. "I… I want Rolf to come back and live with me!"

"Lady, you've got some serious nerve," Boyd snapped, whipping around to face Celica again, all traces of tears gone and replaced with rage. "He's our brother! You're not gonna take him away from us!"

Seeing Celica so desperate to take Rolf back made Oscar think back on his father, too. Why had he never spoken badly of her? Never hated her?

Oscar thought that maybe, just maybe, he understood. It was never his place, or Boyd's place, or even his father's place to judge Celica.

"… just… wait here," Oscar eventually said. "I'll go get Rolf."

"Oscar?!" Boyd exclaimed.

Celica was in equal shock. "Oscar! Thank you!" Yet Oscar couldn't bring himself to act like she was happily forgiven. He doubted that he would ever forgive her.

"Don't get the wrong idea. I haven't suddenly forgiven you," he said, feeling as though voicing his thoughts would cement them.

"Then why…"

"Because you are still Rolf's mother. Nothing in the world will change that. We'll leave it up to Rolf to decide," he said firmly. He would believe in Rolf. Even though a small part of him feared the worst, he would believe.

"Oscar…" he heard Boyd say as he turned to leave.

-

Oscar found Rolf fletching arrows in a nearby tent, humming happily.

"Hmm? Oscar?" Rolf looked up from his wood, no longer humming, though his arm remained in action. "Something wrong?"

"Rolf," Oscar started, still not quite sure how to phrase it even though he had already spent the entire walk thinking about it. "She – Celica… she's here."

Rolf's hand stopped for a brief moment, but he kept on fletching.

"She wants to see you."

Pausing, Rolf said, "I don't want to see her." Then, as though nothing happened, he continued to fletch.

"Are you sure?" Oscar asked, even though he knew Rolf was. "Are you sure you don't want to see her?"

"Yeah," said Rolf, shrugging. "I don't even remember her face. She's just another stranger to me."

"Rolf…"

"I have my family, Oscar. You, Boyd… everyone in the Greil Mercenaries. I don't need anyone else. Why should I let her try and change that?"

"…"

Oscar knew that this was his acceptance, that Rolf also accepted him. This was what it meant… to be brothers. He could feel something welling up inside him, but he wouldn't show weakness. He just stared at Rolf, unable to say anything.

"Don't look at me like that," said Rolf, sounding a little concerned. "Why do you look so sad? I'm not sad."

"Then I'll ask her to go home."

"Tell her never to come back. She's being a nuisance." Rolf nodded matter-of-factly.

"… fine." Secretly, Oscar wanted this to happen, for Rolf to stay with them, but despite all that Celica had done to them, he wished her no ill will.

When he returned to the wall, Celica was still waiting, but anxiety was etched into her face. Oscar watched as she was first eager when she saw him, and then worried once more when she noticed that Rolf was not with him.

"Where's Rolf?" she immediately asked. This time, Oscar knew just what to say.

"He doesn't want to see you."

"W-what do you mean? It's not like you to lie, Oscar." Celica's voice was trembling. "Don't keep me from my own son."

"I never have," Oscar replied in as calm a tone as he could muster. "Who was it that left us? You. Who was it that abandoned her child and her sick husband? You. Who was it that didn't raise her son the way she wanted him to be? You. Never once have I stopped you from coming, or him to leave." He frowned. "So don't you dare accuse me of keeping Rolf from you. If anything, you've only kept him from you yourself."

Celica shook her head slowly in disbelief. "No… I don't believe this… you've brainwashed my Rolf… yes, that's what you've done!" She pointed a finger accusingly at Oscar. "You've stolen Rolf from me!"

Crying ceaselessly, Celica left the gate.

He headed back to Rolf and Boyd. They were waiting for him, arms outstretched as though to welcome him. He accepted their invitation, and all three hugged together for a long time.

Even through all their arguments, their struggles, the three of them were still brothers thicker than blood. And it had been the son's turn to turn away from the mother.

It made for a very confusing and patched-up family tree.

But Oscar was proud of it and would never choose to leave it.

* * *

I thought that the introduction of Rolf's mother would have made for some interesting developments in the FE fandom after Radiant Dawn came out, but I suppose its slight difficulty in attaining might have taken it away from some eager writers. So I took a stab at it. The second half of this story is basically an expansion on the base conversation that diverges a bit at the end. I hope you enjoyed this.

-EmbeRin


End file.
